This Garden

In our little, secluded back garden we have three little patio areas, a shed and a greenhouse that, since we moved it, is in permanent shade.  We have a dining set, which we don’t use because it is in a position that makes it too hot most of the time.  It is in that position because it was swapped with a settee and chairs which were in the shade whenever we wanted to use them.  We also have a smaller table and two chairs that we do not use because they are now in the permanent shadow of the pagoda that we built over them, and a fire pit which, to my knowledge, has never had anything more firey than rainwater in it – hence the bottom has rusted out.  Where on earth am I going to put the new Bubble Chair that my wife has just ordered?  When it has spent the summer, unused in any one of the many unsuitable positions around the garden, where will we store it over winter?  It can’t go in the shed; it will not fit behind the once-used Lockdown patio heater, and I can’t put it into the garage because that is full of all the stuff I had to move when the shed sprung a leak.  My wife says that she is going to buy a cover for the seat.  She doesn’t say where she’s going to keep it…

The new chair, I am told, will seat two and so, will not fit under the pergola and, if it goes on the patio near the back door, not only will it be in the shade all the time, it will stop us getting in and out, so it will have to go where the over-heated dining set currently is.  Perhaps the table could go under the unused gazebo (if I can get it out of the packaging) when, as all the lawn will then be covered up, my grandson can go and play football… well, back at his own house I suppose.  Once they’ve moved the trampoline…

Was a time when this garden had a lawn, some plants and a fold-away deckchair that you moved around with the sun.  Modern living dictates that we really should spend more time outside, but unfortunately old-fashioned weather tells us that we cannot.  A day off work, by whatever name, is still as wet.  You end up going in and out more often than a toddler’s bogey finger.  In the UK gardens are made for looking at through the window.  They are for staring at rather than sitting in or, heaven forbid, eating in which, in this country, inevitably means eating half raw/half cremated barbecued chicken which, given the weather, will be stone cold within milliseconds of being lifted from the charcoal: the steady drizzle will have washed away any vestiges of sauce and your salad will be bobbing on the waves.  Wherever you find a place to sit, it will be wet – and always in the wrong place…

Blood, sweat and tears really don’t matter
Just the things that you do in this garden… This Garden – The Levellers